I have an infinite number of shikigami

Fujiwara Reya glanced around, his gaze swept to the very front of the guests where Kitagawa Ryoko and the woman who previously drew him for free were seated. He gave a slight smile to the two, then followed the Palace Master to the front of the worship hall, awaiting the arrival of the three ladies.

The shrine maidens were still dancing on the stage, but Kitagawa Ryoko couldn't watch any longer.

Just now, when the Mountain God looked over, even through the formation, she clearly saw those eyes shimmering with light. Clear and sharp, with a hint of affection... it was like a goodwill gesture towards someone familiar... How strange, Kitagawa Ryoko couldn't understand why the Mountain God would show kindness to her.

Beside her, Yayako also saw that clear light.

Unlike Kitagawa Ryoko, she discerned a sense of reproach from that gaze... How strange, Yayako thought to herself, could it be that she owed him money?

Arriving in front of the worship hall, Fujiwara Reya stood straight, his gaze fixed on the entrance of the shrine.

The long-stilled wind finally began to blow, ruffling his black kimono in elegance. Watching his erect figure, Yayako thought he appeared very grand, solid, and exuded a very strong confidence. The mysterious young Mountain God gave off a feeling akin to the air of a summer morning, full of freshness and coolness. Regardless of his strength, just from that confident and leisurely demeanor, one could tell he was not someone to be trifled with.

Yayako crossed her arms and pondered for a moment, thinking it might be best not to provoke this Little Mountain God.

All her energy should be used to deal with another young man... Thinking thus, she let her gaze wander over the surrounding guests, hoping to spot Fujiwara Reya's figure, and then entice him in front of Yukino Ritsuko.

As the sun climbed higher, the roof of the shrine became increasingly bright.

The majestic thousand-wood roof decorations started to sparkle.

"Look up, there!"

Someone shouted.

All the guests present raised their heads to gaze upward.

The sight before their eyes was a dreamlike fairyland.

Beneath the clear deep sky, the mountain body of Omiyama was shrouded in thick clouds, making the buildings atop appear to float in the air, as if they had shed the physical form of Omiyama and were ascending gently.

Three thin strands descended from the peak of Omiyama.

As they got closer, the guests realized they were three royal-class Itsukimaten.

The demon kings, enough to dominate one region, were serving as sedan bearers, their backs carrying gorgeously decorated palanquins that slowly descended into the shrine courtyard. Countless nightingales, symbols of love, held lilies in their beaks and spread them before the divine palanquins, forming a floral path leading to the worship hall.

Three thousand lilies, the most splendid of which adorned the sake jars and cups, while the rest paved the floral path.

The priest gently pulled back the palanquin curtain.

The guests couldn't help but hold their breath.

Wearing White Pure dresses, the three ladies with red cords adorning their chests emerged from the divine palanquins.

Although their faces couldn't be seen clearly, from their white tender fingertips that peeked from their sleeves, and the fleeting glimpse of black eyes, one could imagine how stunningly beautiful they must be at this moment.

Guided by the priest, the three brides walked toward the worship hall.

Fujiwara Reya, waiting directly ahead, felt his heart pounding as if he had taken a fall.

The three ladies were meticulously dressed from hairstyle decorations to fingernail art, both exquisite and understated.

Kawashima Miki was the oldest among them, yet not even twenty-eight years old. Be it her appearance, temperament, or her healthy and elegant demeanor, she resembled a splendidly blooming flower, at the prime of beauty. At this moment, no trace of seductive charm could be found on this unparalleled enchantress, her brows appeared elegant and serene, completely like an ordinary happy woman.

As for Yukino Ritsuko, her slightly cool face was smiling.

The immaculate White Pure worn on her was like her pure heart. In Fujiwara Reya's eyes, her ample skirt's graceful white was akin to the snow-topped peaks hidden by fleeting clouds, an essence of the dizzying elegance of femininity.

Kasahara Fumi was even more enchanting.

She looked as though the solemn scene frightened her, her palms slightly clenched into fists. The faintly visible fingertips were meticulously adorned by maids with nail art, golden threads setting off red cherry blossoms that floated on her pink-white ten fingers, supremely pretty and lovely.

Within the white collar, her face was as fresh as spirits.

The wide sleeves hung quietly beside her legs, the pressed-out proud figure couldn't have any flaws. At this moment, the aloof policewoman was like a snow lotus blooming at the summit of snow mountains, just waiting for someone to pick.

Noticing Fujiwara Reya's gaze, Kasahara Fumi felt incredibly nervous.

This feeling was too strange... she even felt as if she was no longer solid, but turned into burning gas, like some strange seasoning had melted in her mouth at this moment, making everything she saw become peculiar... A mix of hangover-like haziness and the shame of being watched intertwined, making her spirit somewhat dazed.

Usually aloof, the policewoman showed the nervousness of a little woman, which was indescribably adorable.

When the three brides reached the worship hall and stood behind the groom, musicians began playing the sho. Wearing a ceremonial dress and a black gauze beret, the palace master approached, using green bay tree branches adorned with white paper strips to wave over the heads of the newlyweds, chanting a prayer.